The Right Pain
by Stephinator Lynn
Summary: A short drabble about why Morticia is the way she is.


This is just a short drabble I couldn't get out of my head and had to write down.

I in no way own The Addams family in any of its brilliant forms.

Chapter one.

Morticia Addams lay perfectly still, as still and silent as the dead. Her arms were rested above her head, stretching out across her black satin pillow. With her head turned to the side the first thing she saw was her forearm, of course covered by a wrist length sleeve. Gomez did not care; he would have her go sleeveless as often as possible. The scars that riddled her arms were the first thing Gomez noticed when he met his bride for the first time. They shone in the moonlight. They were beautiful. He had kissed them then and he kisses them now, occasionally licking away fresh crimson.

Morticia's life had never been easy. She was always different. She grew up in orphanages and did not like the sunlight. Apparently even as an infant she would cry when placed in the heat and harsh unforgiving light of the sun. They had named her Morticia once they began to unveil the oddness of the child. As a child she only wanted to wear black and she liked to talk about death, one time even bringing a dead crow into class. Other children would laugh at her and call her names and no one wanted to be her friend for fear of being dealt a similar fate to the crows.

So Morticia spent the first sixteen years of her life alone and indoors during the day. During the night however she would sneak out of wherever she was living at the time and visit the graveyards. The headstones were her friends and she would sit cross-legged in front of the deceased stone and fantasize that she had known this person; that they had been her friends and she was coming to grieve them, and celebrate them. Morticia had great respect for the dead, believing fully in an afterlife, unfortunately one that was ill-suited to most religions. To her death was beautiful and calm and one of life's ultimate certainty. Why were people so afraid of something they could never control? Death was just around the corner.

One afternoon shortly after Morticia's sixteenth birthday, some girls from her school had rather convincingly, invited her to a party. Morticia had spent her whole life dreaming of going to party, often imagining the ones she would go to with her buried six-feet-under friends. Unfortunately the whole thing had been a set up. Something about wanting to see how frozen Morticia really was a boy had taken her upstairs to a dark room. She woke up the next morning alone.

Morticia had withdrawn into herself more than anyone thought possible. She became darker than before, donning dark eye makeup and crimson lips so read it was as if they were bleeding. She reveled in the torture of others and eventually the torture of herself. It was wrong and painful and marred her porcelain skin. Good, she had thought back then, maybe no one will ever want to come near me.

That had changed one night in the cemetery when Morticia met Gomez Addams. She was sitting by a tree and he had been attending a funeral at three in the morning. He had asked her why she was out on her own in the middle of the night. When she answered that she was communicating with the dead, he had replied with the same answer. All of the Addams funerals are at night, when the dead can hear you and join you. He had invited her to join them, and to meet his family. She was hesitant of course, but went with him, she had nothing left to lose.

Morticia had never felt so welcomed before in her entire life than when she was with the Addams family. They were as dark as her if not more and taught her all about worshipping the dead. It made her feel for the first time ever, like she belonged.

Now, living in the expansive Addams mansion alongside her husband and two children she was still isolated and in the dark. She hoped that her children would never feel the pain she had felt when she was younger, one of being ridiculed and left out. Sure, Morticia saw pleasure in the pain she had given herself, but it was somehow different. One was pain, the other hurt, something only her family, the Addams family would ever understand.


End file.
